“What stakes do you demand?” she asked, as the ritual required. She showed no sign of fear, but inside she quaked, as she expected the Ruler of Hell to demand her soul.

“I demand your obedience on an issue of importance,” Satan said, calmly. “And should you win, you will have the same of me.”

She frowned a bit. She wasn’t sure that being bound in Satan’s service was a better fate than being destroyed.

“You do not choose destruction?”

Satan laughed. “No, friend, I do not. If I start destroying other Gods, then other Gods will get angry, and come try to destroy me. Oh, I'm not saying I haven't done so in the past, when things were a bit rougher. But these are better times. And so I ask merely your obedience. Nothing more.”

Aoibheal was briefly dubious; she was dealing with the Prince of Lies. But she nodded to the Devil. “My word is my bond,” she said.

“So let it be,” Lucifer replied, and bowed, respectfully, a motion Aoibheal mocked.

“Aye,” she said. “Let us begin.”

A battle between Gods cannot be explained in language that would make sense to a human. Indeed, the lone human observing the battle, Tanith, was surprised to see what looked like a staring contest. Had she stepped into the space between the two, of course, she would have instantly been annihilated by the sheer power flowing between the two; fortunately for her, she stood well back.

A battle between Gods is not fought merely physically, or even mentally; it is a pure struggle of two souls, flowing like two opposing rivers down the same channel, until one finds a way to overtop the other. An unadvanced volitional would easily be swept away in such a battle; perhaps some of the great prophets, like Rabbi Yeshua bin Yosef, or the 14th Dalai Lama, or Siddhārtha Gautama – perhaps they could have stood their ground for a few moments against Lucifer. (Jesus and the Gautama Buddha, of course, could now stand against Satan and would have better-than-even odds of beating him head-to-head – but that is now; they have long ago shuffled off their mortal coils).

It was not a battle just of wills; there was strategy, of course, but none that can be explained to someone who can’t see the universe in eleven dimensions. There was bluffing and taunting and trash-talking and some day, when you are dead, you should ask the God-Teachers to explain it all to you, because then you might be able to understand, if only for the briefest of instants.

For now, understand that Aoibheal, Queen of Thomond, fought gallantly against a foe who had her dramatically outclassed, and that when Lucifer finally won his victory, and the two blinked as they reentered the maculate world, the breathless “Well fought,” he bestowed on her was meant with the fullest measure of respect.

“I have been defeated,” Aoibheal said. “As we agreed, I am in your service. Praythee, Satan, make your intention clear.”

She braced for what would come next. Would the Prince of Lies demand she take him to Adam? She couldn’t do that, at least, not directly; she had deliberately not asked Aoife where she would take Adam. Would she be requisitioned to Hell? Made a demon? She hoped not. And yet, she realized with mounting panic, Satan had not given a time limit on her obedience.

She could be his slave for all eternity.

Which is why what Satan said next surprised her so much.

* * *

It had taken Adam several hours to put his plan in motion.

He had snuck into the post office almost immediately, but it took him a bit of observing before he figured out his best strategy for getting home. For a while, he thought about trying to hitch a ride with the letters going to the central processing station, but he realized that the chaos of that place would pose a mortal hazard. He considered approaching one of the customers – they must have been near a college campus, as there were more than a few young beauties who came in – but he didn't trust anyone right now, with good reason.

Instead, he hid out until the office emptied of people, and he walked behind the counter, dragging the trailer-sized manilla envelope behind him.

The interior was protected with bubble wrap; he hoped it would provide enough protection to him to allow him to make it home unscathed. If nothing else, he’d make it home dead, and his body would be proof of his existence.

Heck, maybe that would be for the best. He could exonerate Stephanie and not put her through hell anymore.

At any rate, he slid the envelope along until it reached the side of the bin where people dropped letters in the off-hours. He wasn’t alone; there were a few other letters that had been, through the interplay of gravity and wind resistance, guided away from their original course.

He had stolen the six stamps that decorated the right upper corner of the envelope; writing the address took a huge amount of energy. But by late that night, not long before the post office opened for business again, he had leaned the envelope into place, added the postcard on which he’d written his story, added the ketchup packet that he hoped he could use for emergency food, and then, and only then, did he peel off the tags that covered the glue, and with great difficulty and a bit of ingenuity, he sealed himself in.

He could breathe – but it was intensely claustrophobic. Like being sealed in a tomb.

He just hoped that, alive or dead, this tomb would make it to its destination.

* * *

“And so that’s where we are,” said Eros, as he stared out at the river. “I’m afraid it’s not much to go on.”

“No, child, it’s as much as the old liar would give anyone. You have done well. Now, do you wish to stay for dinner?”

“Mami Wata, I would love to, but I’ve got much business to attend to. At least you’ve got some time before the hearing starts; I’ll come back before it happens, I want to be there with you guys.”

“You don’t have to, darling,” Aphrodite said, picking at her mango. “You are busy; you’ve given so much of your time already.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m damn well going to see this through. So, the hearing is when, three weeks?”

“Not anymore.”

All three Gods turned in shock to the figure who had suddenly appeared behind them. “Aoibheal? What are you –”

“I fought a duel. Against Satan. And lost.”

Eros looked at the ginger-haired Queen, and bowed his head briefly. He raised it, and said, “You were involved at my behest. I will present myself to the Prince of Lies myself, I can….”

“No. He has not claimed my soul, and he does not wish to destroy me. He has bound me only to witness a transaction, and to bear a message to you, Aphrodite. Thenceforth, I am freed from my debt.”

Aphrodite looked on the Irish Goddess, and smiled sadly. “I am sorry,” she said, “that my son involved you in any way. I told him not to….”

“Nay, Aphrodite. Dinna say that,” said Aoibheal, her accent thickening a bit. “My loss is…not as bad as could be, no?”

“Your loss is nothing to be ashamed of, child. Do not hate yourself because of it. I have lost battles, as have all Gods; I would lose to Satan. We all three of us would. It is not your fault,” said Mami Wata, gently. “Did you fight gallantly?”

“I did my best.”

“Well then. What more can any of us do? Now. You said you have a message,” Mami Wata said. “Please.”

“Yes,” said Aoibheal, breathing deeply, and pulling out a parchment. “The message is as follows:

“To The Honourable Her Excellency the Lady Aphrodite Ourania Pandemos, Empress of Venus, Princess of the Seas, Daughter of Uranus, Olympian Goddess of Love

“From His Wickedness and Imperial Majesty The Honourable Lord Shaitan Lucifer Morningstar Iblis, Prince of Darkness, Prince of Lies, Tempter of Man, Slanderer of the Righteous, Deceiver of the Pure, Sower of Discord, Lord High Reverend of the One False Church, Djinn of False Promises, Shaitan of the Pit, King of Dis, Mayor of Pandemonium, Emperor of Hell

“Your Excellency,

“It has come to my attention that you currently have a matter before the Council of Thirteen involving my Chancellor Polymitis Adramelech. This is a most busy time in Hell, and as I do not wish to have my highest advisors tied up any longer than necessary, I have thus intervened to have the hearing moved up.

“While I expect you will receive notification later today from the Council, I did not wish to surprise you with this, as such a move would be Ungodly; therefore I have directed this Goddess, who was evidently working on your behalf, to advise you that the hearing will begin the day after tomorrow, at dawn, at the Majlis al Jinn as previously indicated.

“I hope this is not too much trouble; if it is, I understand that the hearing can be postponed until the human year 2043 C.E. If that is more to your liking, please respond as soon as possible, so that my Chancellor may make his arrangements.

“Sincerely,

“Lucifer”

Aphrodite would have blanched white, if she were human. “The day after tomorrow? There’s no way I’ll be ready by then! Please, tell me he's bluffing.”

“I am sorry,” said Aoibheal, “but he made me travel with to confirm the arrangements. I have the second letter from the Council with me as well.”

Aphrodite swore. “Mami Wata, I can’t do this. I’m not ready to argue before the council. I mean….”

“You are ready,” Mami Wata said, quietly. “You have always been ready. I have given you all the tools you needed. This is a blessing, what Satan has done.”

“But why would He do it?” Eros said, puzzled. “I mean, Adam is still a few inches tall, right? And he’s in Satan’s clutches. This won’t help Him.”

“Yes, it will,” Aoibheal said. “With a bit of help, I was able to liberate Adam. He is, I hope, on his way home now.”

“And if Adam gets home…then he could share information about Satan’s operations on Earth. Even if he didn’t know it was Satan Himself…that would be a problem.”

Aphrodite smiled, thinly. “He can’t outright kill Adam while the case is being adjudicated. Adam’s protected from being permanently killed by one of us so long as either Hephaestus or I do not agree to allow it. But with the case closed, Satan could do whatever He wanted. So he’s going to try to get the case moved up so He can head Adam off at the pass, so to speak.”

“He is brilliant,” said Mami Wata.

“I should decline, and demand the time stop and 2043 hearing.”

“No,” said Mami Wata. “Satan is wrong in this case. Not only can He kill Adam once the case is settled, but we – all of us – can protect him once it is done. And all of us will. He is more powerful than any one of us. But He cannot stand against the combined strength of the four of us, plus the many other Gods and Goddesses who would rally to our side to make sure Adam arrived safely home.

“No, the Prince of Lies has given you a gift, Aphrodite. Use it. You know what you must say to the Council.”

“No,” said the Goddess of Love, “I don’t.”

“You will,” said Mami Wata, inscrutibly. “You will.”

* * *

Adam had lost track of how much time had passed, how long ago he had entombed himself. His existence was long stretches of drudgery broken by moments of sheer terror; when the letter was being flung around, or run through automated processing machines – those moments felt wild and out of control, and at least once, when the bottom of the letter was squished as it ran along a track, Adam thought he might be killed.

But most of the time was spent laying around, abandoned, shoved into a box or a basket for further sorting; he wasn't sure which was worse. These times were agonizing, as he sat in his insulated, darkened crypt, wondering whether Stephanie would be happy to see him, wondering if his plan would fail, wondering why he had been sidetracked, wondering how long he would last before he faded away to nothing.

He wanted to believe that everything would be okay at the end of his journey. He wanted to believe that Stephanie would take him out of the envelope, press him to her bosom, and that everything would work out fine. But he knew that his return to her would start the countdown on his life anew; knew that in some ways, his dying in transit would be a gift to her, and to him.

He tried to push these thoughts out of his head. He had conquered them long ago. But they kept reappearing, as he had nothing to distract him, no beautiful wife to hold him, not even a cadre of torturers abusing him. He had nothing but the dark, and the quiet, and his thoughts.

* * *

“You know, we can reroute these letters to somewhere else,” said Michael, as he took another threatening letter and placed it into a pile. “You don't have to read them.”

“This was something Adam and I used to do together,” said Stephanie. “We'd read them, and laugh about them, and sometimes...well, it wasn't always easy. But no, I don't want to give this away. If someone's threatening me, it just means they don't think anyone should harm Adam, and they're right. Just wrong about me.”

“Your call,” said Michael, dubiously. “So...how long do you want to keep staying here? You know the rock through the window last week could be something worse tomorrow. You can always come crash at my place.”

“If Adam escapes, he'll come home. I need to be home. I've told you this, Michael; why don't you get that?”

“Well, I mean, we could have a cop, or a security guard....”

“I'm not having my husband come home to a damn security guard, Michael! Why do we keep having this conversation?”

Michael sighed. “Steph...he's not coming back.”

Stephanie put down the letter she was reading. “Michael....”

“He's not. He's the size of a finger now. Even if he managed to escape, I don't know how he'd get from Mexico to here. I...I don't want to hurt you, but...at some point, we have to face the truth.”

Stephanie buried her head in her hands, and started to sob. Michael put his arm around her shoulder, and held her until the sobs became coherent.

“I...I...know...he's d...d...dead. B-b...but I...I just can't...I just can't. Not yet. Not yet,” she sobbed.

“I know,” said Michael, softly. “It's okay. Look, you're sure you want to stay here?”

Stephanie wiped her eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “For a couple more days, anyhow. It's...it's still home.”

“I understand,” said Michael, smiling. “I'll help you through it.”

“You're a good friend, Michael.”

“Thanks,” he said, angelically.

* * *

The first rays of dawn were filtering down into the Majlis al Jinn. Had a human been down on the floor of the vast cavern, she would have needed a powerful light just to see. Of course, no human was down on the floor that morning; the Omani government had recently banned spelunking in the cave due to the danger of exploring it. To get into the cave, a human would have to rappel down the walls, down farther than the height of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Getting out required the reverse climb – and not many humans were capable of such physical feats.

Gods, of course, required no such assistance. And on the floor of the domed cavern, a floor larger than the base of the Great Pyramid, the Gods were gathering for the meeting of the Council of Thirteen.

Aphrodite sat at the incongruous wooden desk on the right side of the stage; Hephaestus sat to the left, along with a demon she did not know. She looked around the crowd, dazzled at the attendance. Odin was there, along with most of the Norse pantheon; her little brother Zeus had led eight other Olympians into the gallery. Lucifer sat near the back, looking smug, surrounded by ifrit. The former members of the Council, including Mami Wata, sat nearest to the rostrum, and deities and demons great and minor filled the room. And most startlingly, in the front row sat Al'yah Herself, radiant and calm. She smiled at Aphrodite, and despite herself, Aphrodite's stomach lurched.

It was a far greater attendance than Aphrodite could remember at any meeting of the Council that she had ever attended. She swallowed hard, or would have, had she been a human; if she failed, she failed in front of all her peers, and Mother Al'yah.

As she thought this, suddenly and magnificently, a shaft of light began to enter the hall through Asterisk Drop. It slowly made its way down through the darkened dome until it illuminated the center of the stage. And the moment it did, Malaclypse the Younger shouted, “All rise! The honorable Council of Thirteen is now in session!”

Aphrodite would have uttered a prayer. But anyone she might have prayed to would hear her speak on the matter in but a moment.